You stare at me with those bright blue eyes, eyes that have remained vibrant and vivid though the rest of you rots and withers away, kept alive thanks only to the machines that keep your lungs from collapsing and the sheer force of will that keeps you on your feet.

They say, Lord Vader, that the eyes are windows to the soul, and yours have certainly never been an exception. It amazes me, even now, how you could ever have been a Jedi, when your passions are revealed so nakedly in your gaze. Your emotions are written in your eyes, my lord, and they always have been.

So now you sit there and stare at me levelly, meeting my gaze with your own, and your emotions are plain. Those rabid passions that clamor to be released, sharpening their teeth on your soul and on your bones as they devour you from the inside out. That fire that blazes deep within your eyes and your soul, burning and eating at the remains of the man you used to be until only the ashes are left --